


The Bet

by jrayoh23



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drarry, Harry thinks Draco is beautiful, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Seduction, common room shenanigans, firewhiskey enduced bets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8965351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jrayoh23/pseuds/jrayoh23
Summary: It's eighth year and house unity is at it's peak. After an evening of drinking firewhiskey, Harry and Draco get into a disagreement about which of them is more seductive. Draco claims that Harry wouldn't know what to do, even if he tried. However, Harry knows there is at least one person who cannot resist him; Draco Malfoy. 
The bet is on. Who will emerge the victor?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a one shot for fun! Hope it's enjoyable.

“Deal,” he said, extending his slender hand toward Harry. For a moment, Harry hesitated then reached out. Malfoy thought he had the upper hand, and in a sense he did. What he didn’t know was that Harry already knew how Draco felt about him. In fact, Harry had known for two months now.

    “You sure about this?” Harry asked. After all, it was only polite to give Malfoy one more shot to back out of this bet. A bet which Harry was positive he would win and that wasn’t just the five shots of firewhiskey talking. 

    “Yes, Potter. I am in,” Malfoy said, his face flushed from the heat of the common room fireplace and the firewhiskey, “That’s what all this bloody handshaking business is about, isn’t it?”

   "It is. I just wanted to give you a shot to back out without looking like a prat when you inevitably lose,” Harry said with a smug, satisfied smile on his face. Maybe the firewhiskey was fueling this a little bit, but Harry had been dying to broach this topic with Malfoy all year. 

    From behind them, Harry could hear the collective “oooo’s” from their friends who had gathered round the pair of them in a circle when Malfoy had bet him that Harry couldn’t seduce a broom handle without help from Hermione and Ron. And that he, Malfoy, could seduce anyone, anywhere, anytime. 

    Naturally, Harry wanted to prove Malfoy wrong. So naturally, he had suggested that Malfoy put his money where his mouth was and who better to prove it on than Harry himself?

    “So, the bet ?” Malfoy said.

    “Yes, right. Whoever gives in first, loses.”

    “Right, perfect. Whenever you’re ready, Potter.”

   “Ready,” Harry said and moved in closer to Malfoy. The firewhiskey was warm in his stomach now. It was egging Harry onward, telling him that all he had to do was get close to Malfoy and the git would give in. 

    The crowd that had gathered around them in the common room was closing in tighter so everyone could get a look at Harry and Malfoy. No one wanted to miss the action. 

    It was quite an interesting bet, Harry decided. It was basically a battle of wills. A battle to see could last the longest without giving in to the temptation and kissing the other. They were allowed to touch anywhere from the torso up, allowed to say things, but they had to keep their lips apart. Simple enough for Harry, since he went into this bet knowing Malfoy wanted him. 

     When they were standing less than a foot apart, Hermione and Parkinson, in unison, said, “Ready, set, seduce!” 

     Instantly, Harry felt a hand on his hip as Malfoy drew in a little closer. It was a light touch that sent a jolt through his body. Malfoy had barely touched him, but the fabric of his shirt was thin and it was almost like Malfoy had touched his bare skin. For the first time since making the bet, Harry wished he had made it mandatory for Malfoy to remove his robes and just wear his undershirt like Harry had done. 

    To match Malfoy’s first move, Harry delicately placed his hand, palm down, on Malfoy’s chest just below his collar bone. Without thinking, he started to move his fingers gently back and forth across Malfoy’s chest. At this movement, Harry felt Malfoy’s breathing quicken. 

    Up until now, Harry had not looked into Malfoy’s eyes. It was easier if he didn’t because Malfoy did have a very intense stare and Harry was sure the prat would use it to his advantage. So, in an effort to avoid eye contact further, Harry leaned his head in to whisper something into Malfoy’s right ear. 

    “So, I wonder what it takes to make a posh boy like you blush,” Harry whispered in a breathy voice that he had learned was quite effective in the art of seduction thanks to his brief, but wonderful, relationship with Ginny. After he spoke, he let his hand slide down the front of Malfoy’s robes, stopping at what Harry decided was his navel. 

    Malfoy took in a deep breath and leaned into Harry, so he could whisper something, too. However, Harry didn’t hear what Malfoy had said because he was too focused on the feeling of Malfoy’s warm breath on his neck as the prat spoke. 

    “Potter, did you hear me?” Malfoy said a little louder than a whisper, but still soft enough that with each word came a wave of warm sweet breath on his neck. All the hairs on Harry’s body stood up at that.

   “Erm, no,” Harry answered honestly. His plan was backfiring just a little because he couldn't get his head together long enough to do anything in retaliation. 

   “I said,” Malfoy started in a soft whisper by his ear, but then moved so he was now face to face with Harry, “that I would rather you figure out what makes a posh boy like me _hard_.”

   Harry’s eyes went wide at the last word. His heart quickened pace and he felt his mouth go a little dry. Instinctively, he licked his bottom lip and managed to maintain eye contact with Malfoy as he did it and Harry could tell Malfoy was turned on by it because his pupil’s dilated and he bit his lower lip. 

    Then the hand that Malfoy had resting on Harry’s hip moved around to the small of his back and Harry felt Malfoy’s slender fingers fan out. Due to the new position of Malfoy’s hand, there was barely an inch of space between their bodies. 

    With a deep breath, Harry licked his lip once more, this time on purpose knowing it would elicit a response from the stupid git. Gathering his thoughts on what to try next, Harry watched as Malfoy’s adam’s apple bobbed under the pale skin of his neck. And much to his dismay, Harry was hit with the desire to kiss Malfoy’s perfectly pale and soft neck. 

    _No, no, no_ , Harry thought. He needed to refocus and remember that Malfoy wanted him. That Malfoy fancies him, so all he has to do is get Malfoy to kiss him which shouldn't be too hard since he knows the git wants to do it. 

    Figuring that dirty talk was his best bet, Harry said, “If you want me to get you hard, tell me what you like.”

    “Oh, no, no, Potter. You have to work for it.”

     Harry hummed gutturally, “I’m _up_ ,” he paused to smile softly and then continued, “for the challenge.” 

    “ _Fuck_ ,” Malfoy whispered and bit down hard on his bottom lip. Harry watched as the man’s eyes darted from Harry’s lips back up to meet his gaze. 

    “Kiss me, _Draco_ ,” Harry said putting extra emphasis on Malfoy’s name. It was partly a tactic, but also partly an actual request because Harry’s will was slipping. The longer he stood this close to Malfoy, the more he felt turned on which seemed absurd because Malfoy had barely done anything except for gently hold Harry. And yet, he could feel the blood coursing through his body, and he could feel his cock growing hard against the fabric of his trousers. 

   “Oo, you naughty little Gryffindor. Calling me by my given name. You’ll have to try harder than that, _Harry_ ,” Malfoy responded in kind, practically moaning as he said Harry’s name. 

    “ _Shite_ ,” Harry cursed under his breath. It was his turn to be caught off guard by the overwhelming sexual tension that was building between their bodies like the ebbing of the tide against the shore. 

    Running out of ideas, Harry leaned his head forward to rest his forehead against Malfoy’s. Their noses brushed slightly and Harry let his eyes flutter closed. For a moment, he let himself savor Malfoy’s quiet breathing and the sweet smell of Malfoy’s breath.

    “Potter,” Malfoy groaned, but he didn’t move away. 

    “You are quite beautiful, did you know?” Harry said and it wasn’t to win the bet. He wasn’t trying to elect a response. In fact, he couldn’t believe he had actually let those word slip out of his mouth. But they did and as Harry said them, he realized how true the words were. 

    Malfoy was beautiful. He was tall, with the lean muscles of a seeker. His pale skin was like moonlight shining on still water. And those eyes, sharp and piercing like a hawk, and yet sincere and earnest, like a doe. 

    While Harry had been lost in his thoughts, Malfoy had inched closer so their lips were practically touching. The anticipation of it all was driving him mad. Being that close and not kissing Malfoy was proving to be more difficult than Harry anticipated. With that thought, his stomach flopped at the realization that if he just moved forward a little, he could taste Malfoy’s lips finally. 

    Before Harry could make a decision, Malfoy’s lips were on his and Malfoy’s free hand had moved to cup his chin. A wave of pleasure surged through Harry’s body as Malfoy deepened the kiss. 

   From the crowd Harry heard a few people shout, “Oi, who won then,” and “I think Harry won.” But in all honesty, Harry didn’t care about the bet. He never cared about the bet. What he cared about was kissing Malfoy.  
  
  
    


End file.
